


your halo's slipping down to choke you now

by lionheartedgirl



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Caroline-centric, Gen, turning it off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionheartedgirl/pseuds/lionheartedgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post 3x15 and then it veers off canon (but includes storylines from the rest of the season. (warning for minor character deaths, vampire violence and mentions of blood throughout, and, well, angst, because I wrote it. One sided Caroline/Klaus, brief mentions of canon pairings at the time.)</p><p>After Caroline's her father dies, the same monster takes her mother from her as well and something snaps inside her, something breaks, something she doesn't know how to fix, and with it her humanity disappears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your halo's slipping down to choke you now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wheatear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheatear/gifts).



> So this became a thing. A big thing. I hope you like it and my interpretation of humanity-free Caroline. (And that you don't mind reading long fic.)

**_I wanted to turn everything off, too. Just press a button—_ click** _**—and shut myself down. Turn off my heart, turn of my mind, turn off my body—just lie there, senseless, like a dormant tree in winter, waiting for the spring to return. Or maybe I could wait even longer...** _

 

_**\--** _

 

Caroline doesn’t cry at her father’s funeral.

She wants to. She thinks she should. She thinks, _obviously_ she should.

Caroline had sobbed at his bedside as he died still holding her hand, his skin turning gray as she could do nothing but watch. She had cried and cried. Had begged him to stay until her voice was weak and nothing but a whisper.

But in front of his casket, in front of the world, the tears would not come.

The images came instead.

Him holding her up and flying her across the room in his arms. The pretty pink flowered dress he bought her after he found her hiding under her bed when his and Liz’s arguing had gotten too loud. The smell of vervain in the air. The way he smiled and yelled from the stands as she won her first cheerleading competition. The way he pinned her report card to the fridge for everyone to see. The smell of burning flesh (her own) as he tried to soothe her, tried to make her feel better about what was happening (what he was doing). The way his eyes lit up when she showed him the picture she had drawn of her daddy as a king and her as his little princess. His eyes cold and frightening when he said that he would fix her, that he had too. When he pushed blood into her hands and she could do nothing but react because she was _just so hungry._

It was a jumble in her head, moving pictures that made her nauseous.

Memories, loving and perfect.

Memories of moments that had broken her a little more. _(“I don’t think you’ll ever be okay again.”)_

And she couldn’t focus on one, good or bad, for the tears to come tumbling down.

Instead she stood in her black dress in front of his casket, watching as it was lowered to the ground, knowing she would never see him again, never be able to say anything to him again. Good or bad.

And she still did not cry.

 

\--

 

The door is unlocked when Caroline comes home. Unusual considering everything, her mother is vigilant about that sort of thing. Sheriff and all that, drilling these things into her head and forcing them into her daughter’s as well.

Her keys aren’t on the side table even though her car is outside.

There’s a plastic bag on it though, and when Caroline peeks inside she sees pink glitter and smiles.

It’s then that she smells it.

Blood.

(All the clues were there. She just hadn’t put them together. Not really. Instead she had looked in the bag, been distracted by silly pink glitter.)

She knocked one of containers over and it broke open against the hard wooden floor, as Caroline raced to the other room.

It hit the ground, raining glitter everywhere, as the first scream could be heard. It echoed in the house as she stared down at her mother’s body on the floor.

 

\--

 

Elena and Bonnie found Caroline outside her house, on the porch, as her mother’s covered body was carried out of the house by her own deputies. Another deputy was at her side, rubbing what were supposed to be soothing circles on her back, and repeating the words “I’m so sorry” over and over again.

She thought the deputy might be in shock, the picture of Liz dead still in his mind, unable to leave.

(He kept repeating words and Caroline wanted to tear out his throat so he couldn’t say anything at all. But the thought was dimmed, by the memory of her mother with her throat torn out, bleeding out on the carpeting, bleeding onto Caroline’s lap, and slowly those thoughts disappeared altogether.)

Her friends quickly ushered him away, ushered everyone away, and promised to take care of Caroline themselves.

_(“She won’t be alone.” Bonnie promised._

_“We’ll take care of her.” Elena said softly, already holding Caroline’s hand._

_She thought she saw the Salvatores somewhere in the background, talking to officers, asking questions, but the words to not break through.)_

Caroline doesn’t stop them as they lead her away, lead her back in to her dead mother’s house.

She’s still covered in blood. Not drenched in it like she had been the one to kill her mother herself, but it stained her skin, her light blue flowered dress that she had picked out that morning. It was still there, under her nails and in her hair, and Caroline could still smell it throughout the house.

They led her into the shower, washed the blood off of her skin and out of her hair, and helped her into new clothes and into bed. She followed robotically, because it was what she was supposed to do and Caroline had always followed the rules, followed directions and instructions, because that’s what they were there for.

This was no different.

Bonnie and Elena took turns sleeping beside her, wrapping their arms around her and holding her close. And sometimes when they didn’t think she would notice, tears fell, hitting the pillows beneath the other girl’s heads. It echoed loudly in Caroline's head, the sound louder than it should be.

Elena talked quietly on the phone with Damon when she was off baby-sitting duty, Bonnie at Caroline’s side, wrapped around her like that would make it all okay. She was in another room but her words were easy to hear.

_(“How could a vampire get into the Sheriff’s house?”_

_“How could this happen?”_

_“Damon, I—”)_

Caroline stopped listening eventually.

 

\--

 

Bonnie woke up first, looked for Caroline in bed and found Elena’s long brown hair instead. Caroline was already awake (had never fallen asleep) and was across the room at her desk, writing things down on one of her pieces of stationary.

(Bill had bought it for her, it was personalized and had shooting pink stars across the top. Caroline only ever used it when her mother wasn’t looking.)

“This stuff needs to be done for the funeral.” Caroline said without looking up, or noting that she even knew Bonnie was awake. “And I made a list of all the stuff that needs to be done before it. Mom only has a couple of dresses I’m not sure they’ll work for…”

“We’ll figure it out.” Bonnie said reassuringly, sitting up.

“I’ll need a new dress too, a black one.” Caroline nodded, writing something else down. “I threw out all of mine after all the other funerals. They were…I never planned on wearing them again.”

“We’ll find you something.” Elena said, her voice still scratchy with sleep. Bonnie turned to look at her friend, but Caroline kept writing. “It won’t be hard.”

“I know.” Caroline nodded, still writing.

Caroline was always good with check-lists and plans and figuring things out, fixing things or color coordinating them. It was the rest of life that she had trouble figuring out.

“We’ll give this to Stefan.” Bonnie slipped out of bed and to her friend’s side, taking the pieces of paper from her hands, forcing her to stop. (Her pen continued afterwards, leaving a streak across the page.) “He’ll get started on it and I’ll—I’ll help, make sure its exactly what you want. Why don’t you try to go back to sleep?”

“Okay,” Caroline nodded again.

She capped her pen and moved past Bonnie, crawling back into her own bed in one fluid, graceful movement. Elena instantly conformed her body around her, like a protective shell, sharing a look with Bonnie over there friend’s shoulders.

Bonnie nodded back.

Caroline’s eyes were closed when she left the room. But no one expected her to sleep.

 

\--

 

Caroline tired of Bonnie and Elena’s constant presence shortly after the funeral, of their constant reassurances and questions, and the way Elena would reach for her hand like she was a child who needed help crossing the street. She tired of the tears that fell for a woman that wasn’t their mother.

They didn’t have mothers anymore. None of did.

The town was just evening things up, taking away what had already been stolen from them.

(Mystic Falls will take everything from you, swallow you whole and spit you out, and leave you to put back the pieces on your own. They should put that on the welcome sign.)

But saying it out loud suggesting it, it would be just cause more problems, more questions, more hand-holding, and promises. Caroline didn’t want any of it.

“I just need to be alone.” Caroline said, blocking them from coming back inside. “I just…need some time. You get that right?”

Her voice wobbled just a little and her face was conformed to the appropriate sympathetic look, one that they would buy into easily enough. Caroline Forbes had always worn her heart on her sleeve. It was something she had never grown out of.

(When they were eleven, Elena had told her she liked that about her. _“There’s no secrets with you.”_

Caroline had thought it was a compliment. But Caroline had thought a lot of things over the years.)

“Caroline, are you sure that being alone right now is a good idea?" Bonnie asked.

She had been watching her, observing her, like she could sense something was wrong. Caroline didn’t really care, but she didn’t need it then. Not when she wanted to be alone and Bonnie could force her to the ground with one look if she made the wrong move.

“I promise I’ll call if I need anything.” Caroline said, “And I mean, it’s just for tonight. We can—I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

Her voice changed pitch, just a little bit higher like maybe she was worried they would disappear too, and Bonnie’s face softened.

“We understand.” Elena said, her hand running down Caroline’s arm in an act of comfort that didn’t do anything for Caroline at all. All she felt was the warmth against her cold vampire skin. “And like you said, we’re just a phone call away if you need us. No matter what.”

“I know.” Caroline smiled just enough.

“We’ll talk to you later.” Elena said, grabbing Bonnie’s hand and leading the other girl away.

Caroline went inside and closed the door behind her.

The house was quiet, silent.

It was nice.

 

\--

 

_(In the third grade, they had made a pact._

_Not a blood one, because they had all agreed that was gross, but they crammed their fingers together, made a pinky promise._

_“We’ll be sisters forever.” Caroline said._

_“We’ll always be there for each other.” Bonnie continued._

_“No matter what.” Elena said._

_They were so young, so innocent._

_They didn’t know what they were getting themselves into.)_

 

\--

 

Caroline showed up at school two days after the funeral. Her hair in meticulously done curls and she wearing a plaid skirt that shows off her legs. Her heels were higher than normal, but that was really the only difference.

She had seen them in the window of the store as she passed by and decided she liked them. (Caroline had remembered passing that window before, remembered staring longingly at the shoes she couldn’t afford.) And she had decided what she liked, she should have. Her life had always been about losing, coming in second place, runner up; so why shouldn’t she change that? Why shouldn’t she start to get what she wanted?

It only seemed fair. And fair was all she had ever really wanted.

(That and everything else of course.

Caroline had always wanted her cake and to eat it to. Had never understood why someone couldn’t do both.)

Elena and Bonnie practically gaped at the sight of her. And Matt did a double take as she walked past him, because according to all of them, she wasn’t supposed to be there. Caroline was supposed to be in her empty house, packing up her mother’s clothes or watching sad movies on the couch, a tub of ice cream in her lap.

Personally, Caroline would prefer blood.

Something straight from the vein.

But she doesn’t say that out loud. (Good girl don’t talk about that kind of thing, someone had taught her that.)

“Caroline…” Someone says. Bonnie, Elena, Matt; she’s not sure. It all sounds like background noise. A buzzing in her head that won’t turn off when other people are around.

She missed the silence of her empty house. But there’s nothing to do there but scrub at the stain her mother had left behind.

“I have a dance to plan,” She tells them, barely pausing in her stride, “I’m not going to leave it in Rebekah’s hands of all people.”

She flips her hair and walks away, like she’s done so many times before, her high heels clicking loudly in the hallway as people stare.

 

\--

 

Caroline bites into the first girl who offers her _“apologizes for her loss”._

She doesn’t kill her of course, doesn’t leave a mess behind for others to clean up, even bites into her own wrist and heals the wound. But Caroline leaves the girl with her blood on her dress and a clouded expression in her eyes, not remembering what had happened or who was to blame.

Rumors start circling around the school about what happened.

About the freshman girl Caroline can’t remember the name of and the blood on her clothes and people stop talking about her and her loss like her mother doesn’t have a name.

 

\--

 

Elena and Bonnie search out Caroline after school. She’s easy to find; Caroline was still following her normal schedule and that meant she had cheerleading practice, followed by a meeting with the principal.

(She needed permission to paint the walls of the gym for the dance, a little compulsion would fix that just right. Besides it could do with some brightening up, even if psychedelic colors weren’t really her thing.)

She's on the side of the football field, dressed in shorts and a tank top like always. School colors, like they should be. She had wrangled the whole team a new wardrobe, all of them dressed in red shirts and black shorts, their hair tied back in matching pony tails. A few of them look so alike it’s hard to tell who was who at first glance.

 _(“Okay, why do I feel like I just stepped into The Stepford Wives movie?”_ Bonnie asked, her voice buzzing in Caroline’s ears.

She decided she was glad both her friends had quit the squad.)

“Okay, let’s try this again.” Caroline’s said. Her voice is not loud or angry; just strong and commanding and it had the team jumping at her orders.

In the distance she can hear Elena and Bonnie talking as they watch the routine, the perfect routine she had created, with no mistakes or errors, not even a flinch as the team completed it. All they needed was a ‘ready, okay’ and they were all on their best behavior.

_(“You don’t think…” Elena began._

_“That Caroline’s a perfectionist and has always wanted to win a cheerleading trophy as captain?” Bonnie said, “Yeah, I do.”)_

“Okay, everybody, take five.” Caroline said, before pulling aside one of the other girls, their voices quiet.

Bethany was good, but her back handsprings could use some work, and even with compulsion she seemed slower in her movements than the other girls. Kinks that could be worked out, yes, but there were always other options too.

Caroline smiled politely, as the girl's eyes glazed over and she handed Caroline her pom-poms.

“Your right, Caroline,” Bethany said, “Stanford is more important. And this really is better for everyone.”

“I’m glad you think so too.”

Caroline watched as she collected her stuff, Elena and Bonnie still watching before turning back to the squad.

“Okay, girls, let’s try this again!”

 

\--

 

_(“Bethany!” Elena yelled, following after the girl, Bonnie on her heels._

_She turned around with a smile, one like they had seen Caroline wear before, “Hi, guys.” It was overly cheerful, false._

_“Where are you going, practice isn’t over?” Elena asked, her voice soft but intent._

_“Home.” Bethany said, “I should really be studying.”_

_“Studying? What about practice?” Bonnie asked._

_“Well Caroline and I talked and, well, I can’t get into Stanford if I don’t get the grades. I need to focus on them.” She said, “Besides, Tonya is better at back handsprings then I am, so it all works out.”_

_“But you love cheerleading.” Elena said, remembering her own time on the squad._

_“Of course, but this is better,” Bethany said, “For everyone.”)_

 

\--

 

Bonnie had gone after Bethany. Caroline could hear the two girls talking as she went over the routine again and again and the glazed look in Bethany eyes had sent Bonnie running after her. Elena had stayed behind, ready and prepared to confront Caroline.

(Only she wasn’t prepared, not really.)

After all, Elena had just been through this with Stefan, she had practice, she had said.

(Except Stefan wasn’t Caroline and Caroline was only just beginning. Elena would find that out the hard way, they all would.)

Elena waited for the team to clear out, leaving her and Caroline alone on the field.

“You don’t want your place back, do you?” Caroline asked as she pulled her stuff together, trying to get the small talk out of the way, “Because, I don’t have anywhere to put you.”

“No, Caroline, I—Caroline, you _compelled_ the entire cheerleading squad.” Elena said coming closer, trying to force herself into Caroline’s view.

“What? They weren’t getting the routine right. Now they are.” Caroline shrugged.

Elena said it like it was such a bad thing. Oh so very wrong. It didn’t make sense to her. They were perfect in their routine, one that was guaranteed to win, and had no possibility of anyone getting hurt.

It was better for everyone.

“You can’t just—”

Caroline rolled her eyes, finally looking at her friend.

“Can’t _what_ , Elena? Compel them? Make them do things they don’t want to?” Caroline asked, just a hint of mocking because that was all she could conjure up. “Maybe I’ll start listening when you lose the hypocrisy from your voice. Because you may not be a vampire, but you sure like using that particular gift for your own advantage.”

Elena shook her head, her eyes still wide and desperate and confused, “I only—”

“I’m not interested in excuses, Elena.” Caroline said, and she really wasn’t, she didn’t care, Elena could do whatever she wanted as long as it didn’t affect her. It was her choice, just like this was Caroline’s. “I really don’t care all that much. Actually, I don’t really care at all anymore.”

“You do care, somewhere in there, you’ll always care.” Elena said, “You always have.”

“Yeah,” Caroline asked, her head cocked to the side as she studied her friend, “And where did that ever get me?”

 

\--

 

_(“She flipped the switch, she had to.” Elena shook her head, “She wouldn’t be acting like this if she didn’t.”_

_“To be fair, Barbie’s always been kind of a bitch.” Damon said taking a drink, it was the strong stuff. He had been drinking it since Liz died . “And she’s never had a problem compelling her way out of trouble. I like to think she got that from me.”_

_“This was different, she was so…”_

_“Calm, creepy, not afraid to throw the fact that Klaus is obsessed with her in your face.” Damon supplied._

_“Focused.” Elena stopped him. “She’s so focused, but it was on all the wrong things.”)_

 

\--

 

Caroline’s sorting through her closet when Stefan appeared in her doorway.

There were different piles on her bed and one on the floor. The one on the floor was going to the clothing drive the police station was having next month, her mother had been on her to get rid of things for weeks now. She’d have to wash them before she donated them, of course, she hadn’t worn them in ages.

“I don’t remember inviting you in.” She said adding a white dress with pink flowers to one of the piles.

(It would have to be thrown out; blood stains never really did come out.)

“Any vampires can get in now,” Stefan said solemnly, “You need to sign the house over to someone else…to someone human.”

“I’ll remember that.” Caroline said, making a note in her head. She’d have to pick someone random, someone unexpected. That way people like Damon or another Original didn’t end up with an invitation.

Another dress went in the pile. Nothing wrong with it, not really. It was blue though. She had decided she didn’t like blue.

She thought maybe she would find someone from a different town, keep them on speed dial for when she needed them. It would work out best. No personal connections or inconveniences for anyone. Just a little compulsion and a simple phone call.

“Caroline…Elena and Bonnie are worried. They think—”

“That I flipped the switch.” Caroline finished for him as she folded a yellow top. It had a small tear on the bottom but she was keeping it anyways. She liked it. _Remembered_ liking it.

“Yeah.” He said softly.

He was so very different from the Stefan she had gotten used to, almost like they had gone back in time to the boy in the bathroom that promised to never let anything happen to her.

But time didn’t work that way, not really.

And she could see now, that that boy had never really existed, that the promise he had made hadn’t been a promise at all, just words strung together to make her feel better, to give her something to cling too.

(If it had been a real promise, she never would have been tortured in a cage. She never would have almost been sacrificed by the same Original who had started chasing her around like a lost puppy. She never would have ended up where she was now.)

“I did.” She said, finally turning to look at him. “Not on purpose, but I turned it off, somehow.”

She didn’t know the when or the how. Just that she had. That everything had gone silent, that everything had stopped, that everything had felt horrible and terrible one moment and silent the next, easier.

“Caroline…”

“Tell them not to worry. I’m fine. Actually I’m better than ever.” She said, “And I’m sure they have more important things to worry about, Originals and hybrids running about town and all.”

She turned back to the piles of clothes on her bed, started folding again, separating them by color and style. Eventually she would divide them by seasons as well.

“Caroline, your mother wouldn’t want this.” Stefan said.

He kept repeating her name like it meant something. Like it would draw her back, like it was the magic word to turn it all back on, like it meant anything at all. She thought he had said it more in this one visit than he had since he had appeared back in town with Klaus.

“My mother’s dead, Stefan. People die every day; I did once. It happens.”

Another piece of clothing gets folded and placed into another pile.

“In fact I can’t think of a single one of us that hasn’t died.” Caroline said, pausing for a moment.

Bonnie, Elena, even Matt and Jeremy had died. But something had always saved them. Something had brought them back. Magic, spells, blood; something always did it. Her mother had been the one to kill Jeremy. But Bonnie brought him back, had saved him. Caroline wondered if this was some type of cosmic retribution, some way to bring things back to order.

One life for another.

_“Caroline.”_

She wondered how long Stefan had been talking.

 

\--

 

She throws away all her floral dresses.

Strikes a match and watches them burn.

Caroline can still remember how pretty her father had said she looked in them. Remembered him buying a few of them for her, trying to make her smile. She could remember how she had worn them to all the town events at her mother’s side.

She lit another match.

She watched them burn.

Her mother’s clothes go into the fire too. Pant suits and her Sheriff uniforms. Jeans and cotton shirts and the one dress she owned that she wasn’t buried in.

The cotton leaves a smell that lingers for days, attaches itself to her skin and she cannot scrub it away.

 

\--

 

It’s easy for Caroline to isolate Bonnie. Easier than it should be in a town full of monsters.

Caroline had stolen Elena’s phone right under her nose when she had been in the middle of one of her _“your better than this”_ speeches and with Damon at the Grill being watched, Stefan hunting bunnies, and Elena pretending to be a family with Alaric, it limited the chances of being caught. All it took was an SOS text message telling Bonnie to meet Elena at the boarding house and she appeared.

Just like magic.

Caroline was waiting on the couch, sipping at a glass of blood, when Bonnie arrived. “Eleven minutes.” She noted, when Bonnie hurried into the room. She had wondered how long it would take. “Not bad in case of an actual emergency.”

“Caroline.” Bonnie took a step back at the sight of her. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, _duh_.” Caroline said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. She took another sip of her drink before sitting it down and trading it for Elena’s cellphone. She threw it gently at her friend, who caught it awkwardly, looking down at it in confusion.

“Feel free to tell Elena how you got it.” Caroline said, “ _After_ we’re done.”

“Caroline…”

“So, I was talking to Stefan and he…well he said a lot of things. I really don’t remember most of them, he talks a lot, but it got me thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Bonnie asked cautiously.

“About death, about magic, about you.” Caroline said standing, “And I thought we should have a little talk.”

“About what?” Bonnie repeated, her voice stronger this time. All that confidence and power she had gained over the years finally shining through. Caroline thought if she could feel anything, she would feel proud of her friend.

All she really felt was the power rolling off of Bonnie, reminding Caroline to be cautious, reminding her of the danger.

She ignored that of course.

“About bringing my mom back of course.”

 

\--

 

“Caroline, I can’t. I-I wish I could but—”

“You brought back Jeremy.” Caroline said, her tone shifting, just a hint of a threat as she reminded Bonnie of what she was capable of, of what they were _both_ capable of.

“It was a one-time thing, Caroline. The spirits—they won’t help me anymore. Not for this.” Bonnie said.

She looked guilty and sad, like a piece of her was broken too. Caroline didn’t care if it was. Not anymore.

(Caroline didn’t care about anything anymore. Hadn’t someone told Bonnie that?)

“They helped with the coffins.” Caroline said.

“That was different.” Bonnie said.

Caroline moved so fast Bonnie didn’t see it coming, but then her hands were around her friend’s neck, her fingernails digging into the flesh as she locked cold blue eyes with wide green ones. “Then explain it to them.” She said, like it was obvious, like it would fix everything.

(Caroline was a fixer. She knew what to do to make a situation work. Explain the problem, explain the way to fix it, and then follow the instructions.

Was she the only one who bothered reading the instruction manuals?)

“I can’t just…” It came out pained and only got worse as Caroline pushed her fingernails in harder. They wouldn’t slash her throat, Bonnie was of no help to her he dead, and she could remember when Bonnie was more to her, when things like friendship were still important.

Caroline had no plans to kill her. But pain was motivation, life had taught her that, and Caroline needed Bonnie properly motivated.

Stefan appeared out of nowhere, and in the back of her mind Caroline realized she really should have had someone watching him too but she had thought it too risky that he would sense them before she got what she wanted, but then Stefan’s hands were on her, Caroline's fingernails leaving a trail as she was pulled away, and the thoughts drifted away.

Stefan's hold was easy to break free of, like maybe he wasn’t trying, or maybe real blood straight from the vein beat whatever it was he was drinking nowadays.

It was easy to twist his arm away, to hear the snap as it broke, and send him flying across the room.

It was all easier than she expected.

Bunnies, she thought somewhere in her mind, they may let him live, but they didn’t keep him strong. He really should go back to human blood. Learn to live with the consequences like everyone else.

“If she wanted rescuing,” Caroline told him, “She was more than capable of saving herself. I didn’t feel as much as a tingle.”

It seemed obvious to her, she knew what she was getting into the moment she had decided to try to threaten a witch. Her head was fine. Not even a headache to speak of. And she hadn’t ended up on fire.

Caroline stepped over Stefan’s body as she left, never looking behind her.

She ignored the calls of her name.

 

\--

 

_(“We’ll fix this,” Stefan promised. His hands clenched, like they wanted to reach out to comfort Elena, but Bonnie held her hand instead._

_“How?” Bonnie asked. “She did this herself, no one forced her to. Her mom’s death…everything that happened...”_

_“Both of her parents died so close together.” Elena whispered, “She found them both.”_

_She wasn’t really looking at anyone, lost in another time. Stefan’s hands clenched again and Damon took another drink._

_“We just need to get her to connect again.” Stefan said, “For her to…feel something. Anything.”_

_“Like you did?” Damon mocked._

_“Damon, this isn’t the time.” He glared._

_“I’m just saying; are we sure that you’re really the one to offer opinions on this?” Damon raised an eyebrow._

_Stefan looked away and Damon took another drink.)_

 

\--

 

Caroline was on her third glass of what she was sure was expensive whiskey when Damon arrived back at the Boarding House. He was alone. No sounds of others following behind him, just his heavy footsteps that she had memorized a long time ago.

(Always best to know when Damon was in the vicinity. It might save someone’s life after all.)

“Of course you’re here.” He said, throwing his jacket onto the couch, “Everyone else is out searching the whole town and _here_ you are.”

Caroline shrugged, taking another drink. It was Damon’s favorite, he had told her once under the thrall of compulsion, and it should give her some sort of satisfaction that it might make him angry. It didn’t. For now it was just the strongest thing in reach.

“Next time, I guess you guys should think smarter.” She said simply.

It was easy to figure out really. Caroline was a lot of things, but she wasn’t stupid.

“You know Elena and Stefan might want to go about this all the easy way, all love and kumbaya until you come back to your senses, but me,” Damon shrugged, “I’ve always preferred the more painful, violent way.”

Her glass shattered on the floor as his hands wrapped around her throat and he shoved her against the wall.

They had been here before. She was sure of it. Maybe they were laying down at the time or it was his teeth in her neck and not his hands wrapped around it. But they had been there, that fierce look in his eye that told her he would kill her.

Only it looked different now, it _was_ different now.

“Now, why don’t you be a good little vampire, and save us all the trouble and turn it back on before this gets out of control.” Damon said.

Caroline stared at him with dead eyes, saying nothing at all, and she swore she saw him flinch a little at the sight.

“Liz wouldn’t want this.” He switched gears.

“ _Liz_ is dead, she doesn’t want anything.” Caroline said, “It’s one of the perks of dying. When it’s finally over, no magic or vampire blood to bring you back, you don’t want anything at all.”

He looked at her differently then, like she was somebody else, someone new and someone familiar all in one and he didn’t know what to do. It was a look normally reserved for Elena or Katherine when they did something he didn’t expect. (Damon never could predict the actions of others, it was one of his pitfalls, why his plans never quite worked out like he wanted them to.) But his grip on her neck was still just as tight, never relinquishing, like he could convince her to do his will again through pain instead of compulsion.

“Fine, the memory of your dead mother not doing it and violence not enough for you, let’s try something else—”

His other hand moved quickly, reaching through her shirt, through blood and bone and muscle until his hand was wrapped around her heart.

_“—Death.”_

 

\--

 

_(Bonnie wouldn’t let Damon or Stefan in the house, not with Caroline “such a mess” she had said. It was all to soon._

_Damon hadn’t seen her until the funeral. Sitting front row, Elena and Bonnie on either side of her. No parents left._

_Some part of him had even felt bad for her._

_He had tried drinking that part away of course. Damon didn’t care about the Caroline’s of the world. Damon didn’t have friends, so there was no reason to be upset that Liz had died and he hadn’t been able to save her._

_But there was alcohol. It had always been a constant._

_Caroline had come into the Grill unexpectedly, ordering food she didn’t need and a bottle of liquor she was too young to have. She got both of course, the perks of being a vampire._

_She had almost seemed scared when he had invaded her personal space, too much to drink, and an apology over Liz’s death on his lips. The way she had seemed so tired from the day, so tired of every apology, scared that maybe the monster that had gotten her parents would get her too._

_The mention of Klaus had seemed off hand, had seemed like nothing._

_Now he knew what it really was. A reminder. A threat. She had something none of them did._

_An Original on her side._

_She really was a better actor than people gave her credit for.)_

 

\--

 

Caroline laughed, and she almost sounded like the girl she once was, carefree and careless, only Caroline Forbes was never really any of those things. Not really. Not until she had flipped the switch and then nothing had mattered. It was only after that that she was capable of being carefree. Of not caring what anyone else thought.

It was a release. A feeling of ecstasy almost, one she had never felt before. One that made her feel like she could fly.

So many years wasted, basing her entire life on the opinion of others. It all seemed so silly now. So fruitless.

It had never really worked anyways.

“You think I’m joking?” Damon asked, the pressure around her heart growing, his eyes hardening, and it hurt, it did. The way he slammed her harder against the wall and his fingers squeezed reminding her of everything he was capable of.

_(“Are you going to kill me?”_

_“Mmhmm, but not yet.”)_

Once she would have been so scared. So completely terrified of this man (this monster) who had promised to kill her before. Who had tried so many times before, who had failed only because others had saved her. And she knew no one was coming to save her now.

She wasn’t scared then. The memories of fear played in her head like a movie, showed her how she should react, of what she should do, but she pushed those down with everything else. Laid them to rest next to her dead father who once tried to kill her too.

“What I _think,_ is that you’re lying to yourself.” Caroline smiled despite the pain. “I think you want to think you’d kill me. All that unfinished business.”

She licked her lips and looked at him through half-lidded eyes, every inch the girl who thought she had seduced him into her bed, not realizing it was the other way around. Not realizing she had never had a chance.

“I think some part of you will always want to kill the silly little girl who invited you inside but you won’t.” She said, “Because all it is _is_ lies. Pretty little lies and pretty thoughts to make yourself feel better. Because if you kill me Elena will _never_ forgive you.And that you couldn’t live with. So no, I don’t think your joking, but I do find it _very_ funny.”

 

\--

 

“It’s really not that hard, Amber. See, too rolls of the glue stick and then glitter everywhere. Rinse and repeat. Got it?”

“Got it.” Amber nodded absent mindedly, then went back to doing as Caroline instructed.

Caroline rolled her eyes out of habit. Compulsion really shouldn’t be necessary, it wasn’t difficult.

“Come on, people,” She said louder, grabbing everyone’s attention, “It’s the Seventies; bell bottoms and bright colors and flowers. It’s not like it’s hard.”

Even if it was, she had mapped it all out for them. All they had to do was follow the directions she had laid out.

People turned away after that, all of them going back to what they were doing. If she listened closely she could hear them talking about her, words like _‘Psycho’_ and _‘Poor-Orphan-Caroline’_ wafting through the wind.

She took note who said what. She’d get hungry later.

“I see you have it all going well.” Rebekah said appearing behind her.

“It’s what happens when you know what you’re doing.” Caroline said reaching for her check-list. It was meant to be bitchy, most of her conversations with Rebekah required that, instead it came out flat. She’d say half-hearted, but that implied there was heart in it at all.

“Compulsion helps with that.”

“Someone’s just bitter they didn’t get the group to change the dance to the twenties like they wanted.” Caroline said, adding ‘buy more glitter’ to her check-list.

“Well, again, it helps when you’ve compelled the entire decorating committee.” Rebekah said.

“You just wish you got there first,” Caroline said finally turning to look at the other girl, “I mean, do you even know anything about the seventies? Or any decade after you got locked in that box?”

She cocked her head, even gave that smile she had sent so many times to other girls over the years but Rebekah just stared through her.

“A little over the top, don’t you think?” Rebekah asked, “I mean, _really_ , Caroline?”

Caroline returned to her check-list, ignoring the other girl, and focusing at the task at hand. She was still getting a handle at the whole pretending to feel thing; it would take time. But Caroline had never met a challenge she hadn’t conquered. She was Miss Mystic Falls after all.

“I can handle things if you need me too,” Rebekah said, her voice softening, changing to a tone Caroline had never heard her use before. “You don’t need to—I promise to follow your plans.”

Caroline could tell it hurt the other girl to force out the last few words, to make the promise and it actually be genuine.

“You’re slipping, using compulsion in public, and I—you should go home, take time to…grieve.”

“Grieve over what?” Caroline asked, looking up at the other girl. She didn’t pretend this time. Didn’t hide dead eyes. Didn’t hide anything.

Rebekah took a step back.

“Now, I’m going to go check on the music.” Caroline said, her voice back to the perkiness she needed it to be to maintain the girl she was supposed to be, “You know, do something useful. Maybe you should do the same.”

 

\--

 

_(“She’s escalating.” Stefan sighted. “She can’t feel anything so she’s escalating to try to and…_

_“Have you looked in her eyes?” Stefan asked, looking away. “Caroline has always been full of emotion, everything about her, good and bad, and it only got enhanced when she changed but now…You look in her eyes and she’s just—“_

_“Dead.” Damon finished for him, “You look in her eyes and all you see is dead eyes staring back at you.”_

_He knew he had seen them staring back at him._

_Seen Liz’s vacant, dead eyes on her daughter’s face.)_

 

\--

 

Elena appeared again, cornering Caroline when she’s alone, another one of her speeches about how this wasn’t really Caroline, how she can turn it back on, how they’ll all be there for her, how—

Well, eventually Caroline always tuned her out.

She didn’t know why Elena kept coming back, kept trying.

(The definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Caroline was almost positive Elena hadn’t gone insane when she wasn’t looking. The Salvatores wouldn’t allow that.)

“Are we really going to do this again, Elena?” Caroline sighed.

It was tiring. Made her want to bite into her friend's long neck, but she knew that Elena was full of vervain, and she didn’t think it was worth the pain.

“I’m not giving up on you.” Elena said, stepping closer. “I’m _won’t_.”

“Why?” Caroline asked.

“What?”

“Why not give up on me?” Caroline asked, wide eyes blinking, searching her friend’s face for answers. All she saw was confusion and sadness. “I mean, you won’t be losing much. Just one friend, you have plenty of others ones, you'll still have Bonnie. So why not just give up, move on? Go back to your Salvatores.”

“Because you’re my friend and you’re important to me.” Elena said, “I’ve known you since the first grade and none of this is you.”

“Really? Are you sure?” Caroline asked, standing up, “I mean, are you sure this isn’t how I’m supposed to be? Shallow little Caroline who only cares about herself and how she looks? Isn’t that what you always thought before?”

“No, Caroline…”

“Don’t lie, Elena. It’ll only get you hurt.” Caroline smiled but it wasn’t real. She didn’t remember how to really smile and mean it anymore. All she had left was muscle memory.

“I know how you and Bonnie talked about me, Elena.” She continued, aiming right for the heart buried under all that hair and grief she wore so well. Caroline was so very tired of these little talks and how they droned on and on and never really got to the point.

She thought it was her turn to make a point of her own.

“I mean half the time you didn’t even have the curtesy to do it behind my back.” She said, her eyes narrowing, “What was it you used to say? _Poor, pathetic, little Caroline_ —she doesn’t even realize what she looks like. She’s not playing the victim. She’s not saying the right things. She’s wrong. Caroline’s _always_ wrong. Always the problem. _Always, always, always_ …”

Caroline had moved closer, taking a step with every word until the two were face to face.

“Well go ahead, Elena, try and fix the problem. Find out what happens.”

 

\--

 

_(“Everyone reacts to turning off the switch differently. They…they don’t feel things the same way, but they’re still themselves deep down inside.” Stefan explained softly, almost like he didn’t want to admit it. “But they’re numb, everything is dulled so much that it’s hard for them to feel it, to reach that part of themselves.”_

_Elena closed her eyes, remembering. Remembering Stefan, remembering the bodies he had left behind and his teeth in her neck. Remembering Damon and his blood in his mouth, the scars he had left behind on her friend’s bodies._

_Remembering Klaus, remembering Katherine, and all the vampires she had met before._

_“You saw me when Klaus compelled me, you saw Damon when he first came to town…” Stefan said._

_“But hey, we got better!” Damon said with a fake toast._

_Elena hated the idea of Caroline becoming anything like them.)_

 

\--

 

Her teeth are in Brian Summers neck when Caroline feels another presence enter the bathroom. She had positioned them just right, his head tilted back, so it would look like something else. But whoever had come in had power rolling off of them, they wouldn’t be fooled, and she couldn’t just compel the problem away.

She retracted her teeth, right before the feeling of fire reached her head. She hurried away, her body slamming against the wall, her eyes closed until the pain faded to a dull throb.

“I was just taking a little.” Caroline said, turning to look at Bonnie.

She went to Brian, and he asked her if she was okay with glazed eyes and she rolled her eyes, reflex and all. She offered up her wrist and his wounds healed quickly, before sending him on his way, with a polite request that he forget everything that happened.

“I was hungry, I wasn’t going to kill him.” Caroline said once he was gone. “I don’t kill people.”

“Really? And I’m just supposed to take your word?” Bonnie asked, her voice sharp, a little shrill at the end. Caroline imagined there was a war going on inside her head, the witch responsible for people’s lives and the friend. Each of them torn. Each of them thinking they could help.

“Killing people leaves a trail. It leaves you open to being found out.” Caroline said, “And I’m not Stefan, incapable of staying in control, and I’m definitely not Damon, looking for some fun. So no, I’m not going to kill anyone, I’m not stupid.”

God, what her friends obviously thought of her.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Bonnie asked, her voice almost hurt.

Caroline didn’t understand why.

“Shouldn’t it? Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted from me?” She asked. Caroline remembered the requirements to keep her ring, to make sure the spell was never lifted. It meant she didn’t have the luxury of making a mistake. It meant that one slip and she was in the dark permanently.

She would never take that risk.

“What I _want_ is my friend back.” Bonnie said.

“That’s…sweet I guess.” Caroline said, “Though a little confusing, considering the headache I have.”

“You were hurting him, I did what I had to.” Bonnie said, her jaw clenched, strong as she faced Caroline dead on, “I won’t let you hurt people.”

“I compelled him.” Caroline tried to reassure her, “He didn’t feel anything.”

“That doesn’t make it okay. It doesn’t make any of this okay. Caroline, this isn’t you. None of this is you.” There are tears in Bonnie eyes, threatening to fall.

Caroline remembers what that was like. Being on the brink of tears, trying to push them away. It had taken years of practice to be able to hold them off until she was alone.

“This _is_ me, Bonnie.” Caroline said quietly, honestly, “Are you sure it’s not time you just accepted that?”

 

\--

_(Bonnie remembers what Elena was like after her parents died. She was a fountain of tears that only stopped when Jeremy appeared the first few days. Eventually the tears stopped, and by the day of the funeral Elena followed directions like that was all she knew how to do._

_The tears started again at her parents graves. Caroline had secretly told Bonnie that she worried they would never stop._

_Caroline hadn’t cried once since her mother died, not that the other girls had seen. She had had tear tracks on her cheeks when they found her, mascara stains under her eyes. There were times Caroline could have cried and maybe Bonnie wouldn’t have noticed, but she didn’t think she had._

_She didn’t cry at the funeral either. Not as people took turns telling of Liz’s life and her effect on their own._

_Not when she laid a flower on her casket or Liz was lowered into the ground._

_Not when Caroline threw dirt over the coffin like she was supposed to, following the pastor’s lead._

_“Dust to dust.”_

_Caroline didn’t cry once.)_

 

\--

 

“No,” Bonnie shook her head, “No, this isn’t you. This is something…this is something that happened to you. Something broke in you when your mom died and—you can’t be like this, Caroline. You just can’t.”

Bonnie was crying now, the tears falling over the edge, and once upon a time Caroline would have been the one to wipe them away.

She would have been the one to tell her it was all going to be okay.

She would have been overly positive, she would have been smiling comforting, and holding her tight.

But that girl had disappeared and this was all that was left.

“How am I supposed to be then, Bonnie?” Caroline asked. “Am I supposed to be crying over my dead mother’s grave? Or maybe my father’s instead? Or maybe I’m supposed to be at home using all my energy on making cookies for the bake sale so I won’t have to think about how all the Forbes are dead, me included? You tell me, Bonnie, what I’m supposed to be doing?”

“You’re supposed to be grieving.” Bonnie said softly, trying to reach out to her friend that she hoped so desperately was still in there. “I know it hurts, Caroline. I know how badly it hurts, but it’s supposed to hurt. Its human nature, you have to feel it to get passed it. This—turning it off—it’s not going to make it go away. Nothing will ever make the pain go away, not really.”

“Human nature, huh?” Caroline nodded like she was trying to put a puzzle together, work it out, “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not human then.”

“Caroline…”

“And you know what, maybe this isn’t fixing the problem. Maybe you and Elena and everyone else are right. That pain, it won’t go away. It’ll always be there. Turning it off, it won’t fix anything.” She said, “But never turning it on again, staying like this forever, that will. No more pain, no more caring, no more…anything. And that’ll fix everything, won’t it?”

 

\--

 

She compelled the Grill, all of the customers and waiting staff.

It’s easier than she thought it would be. Matt wasn’t working, not that he could have stopped her if he had been. That bracelet he wears snaps off easily enough and the pain would have only lasted seconds as her hands touched the vervain. And even if he had ingested it, well, what was the worst he could do? Call Stefan or Damon like a good little boy.

Caroline would break him in two.

She’s put him back together afterwards of course, but her message would be made.

But Matt wasn’t there and the majority of Mystic Falls was vervain free. They care about their own there, everyone does; Elena, Bonnie, Stefan, even the Founders Council and Sheriff’s office. It was just how it worked. How it had always worked.

It took time, she had to compel everyone new who came in. It took work and time. Effort. But it was worth it in the end.

She felt the silence in her head, the kind she usually only felt when she was alone.

Tommy Fell’s blood tasted delicious in her mouth as she bit down on his wrist and she was sure if she could feel it, there would be satisfaction that no one even batted an eye in her direction, even as he screamed.

And the free flowing alcohol is a delight.

Or it would be.

She imagined it was.

Imagining; that was all she has left. Imagining and remembering what she was supposed to feel like, what she used to feel like, what she used to want.

The blood was warm as it went down her throat.

 

\--

 

_(“We just have to get her to tap into an emotion, for her to be reminded what it feels like to love, to want.” Stefan said._

_“She flipped the switch, she doesn’t want anything.” Damon said._

_“We both know the switch is a lie, it doesn’t make everything go away—it just dims it. It lets you push it all away. Caroline is still feeling emotions, just not to the degree she should be. She’s still in there somewhere. We just have to find a way to get her back.”_

_“Then we find a way.” Elena said, “No matter what it is.”_

_Her eyes sought out Bonnie’s across the room and her friend nodded._

_They would do this._

_No matter what.)_

 

\--

 

Stefan appeared beside her, like a bad habit he had picked up. Only Stefan’s bad habits were really far more murderous than anything else. Always ended with blood on his lips.

Caroline wondered what he would do if she offered up Shelly Winter’s wrist to him as he slid into the seat beside her.

“I see you’re having fun.” He said, his voice tight.

She imagine he smelt the blood in the air. She wondered if it made him hungry.

(Rippers are always hungry. _Stefan_ was always hungry.)

“I wouldn’t call it fun.” Caroline said, taking a sip of her drink. It wasn’t nearly strong enough, not with Stefan or any other Salvatore by her side. She would have ordered hard liquor if she had known he was coming.

“Caroline…”

She ignored him, called the bartender over and ordered something stronger. “Oh and a beer for him.” She gestured in Stefan’s direction. “I don’t think he’s going away.”

The bartender left, a compelled smile on his face.

“Your right, I’m not giving up on you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Caroline said, “Of course, I didn’t ask you to come out of your depressed-fake-no-caring stage to try to ‘help’ me either.”

The bartender came back with their drinks and Caroline smiled in thanks, drank her first shot down in one go.

“This isn’t you, Caroline.” Stefan said.

She stole his beer. They said a chaser was always good and he wasn’t drinking it. Hadn’t even opened it. Not very polite.

“This isn’t helping anything.”

She took another shot and then another drink. She didn’t really get what the big deal was. She preferred the burn the stronger alcohol gave.

“Look around you, Caroline. Look at them.” He said, “Does any of this seem like you?”

Caroline looked around at all the smiling faces, happy and content, and completely unaware of anything she had done or may do in the future. But they were happy, they were content. No heartache or pain. Nothing to worry about.

It didn’t seem bad, not really.

“How long do you think it would take to compel the whole town?” She asked, turning back to him. She knew it wasn’t his point, but he had made her wonder.

“Caroline…”

“I mean, we’d have to drain some of the town of vervain first, but Mayor Lockwood would have all of their names and then once they’re out of the way, it’s just a matter of time to get to them all. It would take work, but all things worth it do.”

“And once there compelled? What’s your plan then?” Stefan asked.

“I don’t know,” Caroline shrugged, “But it would be safer for us. We’d never have to worry about them finding out what we are or trying to do anything about it. They would be happy, oblivious, but happy.”

It seemed reasonable enough to her.

“And of course it would be like a buffet wherever we went. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

The question was genuine, she wasn’t really sure. The euphoria of blood she understood, she felt it every time she had killed before, every time she had drank straight from the vein, even the blood bags had offered it, though in a lesser way. She felt it every time and it always made her want more, made something in her stomach clench in anticipation, with adrenaline.

It didn’t feel quite like that anymore, but she could remember.

“Caroline, this isn’t you talking—”

“You’d enjoy it, wouldn’t you?” She asked looking him over, “I mean I never really got to meet the Ripper, he spent all his time with Klaus and Elena, makes a girl feel a little left out, you know? But all the things I heard, I think he’d have a lot of fun with a town full of victims for the taking.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get to meet him,” Stefan said. “I never want you to.”

She smiled up at him. She had touched a sore spot, one to close to the surface, one he didn’t like. It almost felt rewarding.

“Of course you don’t want me to meet him, Stefan,” She said, false smile still firmly in place, “Because it’s so much easier for me admire you when all I ever see is _good_ Stefan, so full of guilt for everything he’s done, trying to make up for it, trying to be a good boy.

“Of course you don’t want me to see him, Stefan.” She gave a little laugh, “It would wipe away the illusion.”

“The Ripper would have killed you a long time ago, Caroline. You’re a liability right now.” He said, his voice growing darker.

It was far more convincing than Damon’s ever was.

“And you’re a liar, Stefan.” Caroline said, standing up, her body brushing against his, “The Ripper isn’t some alter-ego that takes you over. He’s nothing but an excuse. That’s all you are. A series of excuses pretending to be a man. And in reality, you’re not even that.”

His hand reached out, grabbed her neck in a steel hold, and she smiled, all teeth.

“See, there he is.” She smiled, blue dead eyes locked on cold green ones. “Just under the surface, waiting to come out and play.”

 

\--

 

_(“What’s your plan after this, Caroline?”_

_“I don’t know,” Caroline said wiping glitter off on her jeans, “But I have prom to start planning and college applications—I was thinking of applying to Stanford—so you don’t have to worry, I’ll have something to keep my hands busy.”_

_“It’s your teeth I’m more worried about.” Stefan said._

_Caroline’s lips twitched, her thumb going to her mouth and wiping off a bit of blood from one of the boys she had compelled to help the dance committee._

_“Don’t worry,” She said, slowly licking the blood off her thumb, “They’ll be plenty busy too.”)_

 

\--

 

Stefan’s hand slipped away and he backed away. He glanced around but no one had looked up from what they were doing, no one had even noticed.

“Caroline, I’m—I’m sorry, I…” His voice was so soft, so broken.

She recognized all the signs of self-pitying, of self-loathing. (She had seen them in the mirror enough to know what was coming.)

“I didn’t mean to…”

Caroline downed her last drink, shaking her head at the burn as the alcohol went down. “See, now that hurt. You should teach Damon that trick, he’s a little lacking.”

Stefan stared at her, stared like maybe he had never seen her before. She thought maybe he was starting to get the message.

“Caroline, a part of you knows the switch is a lie. That your humanity is still there. That it will always be there, no matter what you do.” He said. “Nothing you do will ever make it disappear.”

“Funny, that part doesn’t seem to care.” She smiled, grabbing her new leather coat and leaving him behind.

 

\--

 

_(“Has anyone talked to Tyler?” Stefan asked. “He might be our best chance at bringing out her humanity. Someone she loves.”_

_“Sure, wolf-boy is definitely going to help,” Damon rolled his eyes, “Not like he’s off trying to break his sire bond to the Original obsessed with his girlfriend or anything.”_

_“We’ve left messages. I think we might have filled his inbox.” Bonnie said ignoring Damon, “But Caroline was the only one he ever called back. Even Matt and his mom haven’t heard from him since he left.”_

_“Then maybe Klaus is our best chance.” Stefan said._

_“And what have him compel his to feel something?” Bonnie asked, her face masking her horror as best as it could.)_

 

\--

 

It’s Klaus who finds her in a seedy bar outside of town.

A dive bar, really. She doesn’t trust the bathrooms at all. But the clientele is wonderful, all leather jackets and short shorts, and vervain free.

It’s like heaven to a vampire. If vampires believed in that sort of thing.

(Caroline knows where she’s going when she dies.

Maybe it’s not hell, not exactly, but it’s something like it. Loneliness and darkness and forever, no eternal peace. Just watching as life continues on without you. Its hell for the supernatural. Trapped and wanting and longing and getting nothing in return.

Caroline knows _exactly_ where she’s going when it’s all over.)

It’s much easier to compel the bar than it was the Grill, more fun and with less chance of getting caught, of vervain in someone’s system, or revealing herself to the wrong person.

They’re all outcasts here. Caroline is just another one of them. Just slightly better dressed.

She’s dancing on the table tops, a brunette with long hair and a short skirt, grinding into her as she sinks her teeth into her skin. The brunette whose name she never asked sighs into her ear, moving her head until she’s pressing kisses along Caroline’s jawline. And it’s not what Caroline wants but it sends the crowd hollering and Caroline doesn't to stop her.

She feels her skin prickle, eyes on her, danger entering as the door to the building clicks shut.

(Her feelings may be gone, but her self-preservation is still there.)

Caroline looked up from the brunette, could see Klaus in the doorway raising his eyebrows at her and she smiled back, her teeth still coated in blood.

 

\--

 

Caroline sent the brunette away, blood still dripping from her neck, and headed to the bar. She orders tequila for herself and their finest whiskey for Klaus. (Laughable really because this place doesn’t have the finest of anything. Or, so says the bartender.)

“What no brandy?” Klaus asked sliding into the seat beside her.

“I thought you should try something new.” Caroline turned to him, “Haven’t you heard, it’s all the rage?”

“I have heard…something to that effect.” Klaus said.

Their drinks are placed in front of them and Caroline winks at the bartender in thanks.

“I didn’t think this was your type of place.” Klaus continued as she downed the first of her shots.

“Can we please skip the small talk?” Caroline groans before downing another shot. “I’m so tired of small talk and the way people use it like it’ll make me better. It gets…tiring after a while. All that small talk. I’ve lived a life full of it and really, it’s just a bunch of bullshit that people say until they can get to the point they really want to make. So let’s get to the point, Klaus, because I hardly think you’re here for the ambiance.”

She downs another drink and smiles at him. Wishes the alcohol had some kind of an effect. Mostly it just made her have to pee when she got too much in her system.

“So tell me, _Niklaus,_ are you going to be another person who tries to save me?” Caroline asked, “Are you going to compel my emotions back on so I can be that same girl you fell for? So full of light and goodness?”

She moved closer, turning on her stool until she was in his space, just like he had always done to her before.

He had always liked her in his orbit, circling, pushing closer and pulling back. The chase was only fun if there was something to chase after. It’s why Katherine was still alive after all these years. Caroline got that now.

“Or maybe…you like me better this way?” She licked her lips, eyes locked on his, enticing, as she looked at him like he was the center of her universe, like she had taught herself to do so very long ago when she was still chasing after senior boys. “So much easier to corrupt. So much more like you.”

“I liked the girl I first met.” Klaus said.

Caroline noticed that he didn’t deny it. He avoided it instead. Such like a man. Such like Klaus.

“That’s right, you thought she was full of light, that she was strong, that she was beautiful.” Caroline nodded.

She reached for another drink, slammed it back and it burned as it went down, but that was all she felt.

“Was it the positivity that drew you in? The kind she faked so that she would feel better? That she deluded herself into believing even though she knew it wasn't true.” She asked, her head cocking to the side as she looked closer at him, waiting for some kind of a reaction.

A thousand years and Klaus still couldn’t hide them, none of the Originals really could. Not with Elijah’s affection for Elena or Rebekah’s want to be a real girl. Or even Klaus with his quest to always be the one in control, broke so easily when the right buttons were pushed. Caroline knew, she had found them before. Had been terrified when she had.

She wasn’t terrified anymore.

“Or maybe it was the big smile that she practiced in front of the mirror to get just right. You know if you’re smiling, people don’t ask questions,” Caroline said, her fingers walking up his chest, until they reached the top of his Henley and started playing with the necklaces that rested there. One was a crucifix, she found her hand wrapping around it. “They don’t notice all the little things hiding right under their view…”

“You talk like that girl was somebody else.”

“That’s because she is.” Caroline smiled. It was so big it was almost convincing. “That girl you think you knew, that _strong girl_ who cried herself to sleep at night because the world had never done a damn thing for her—she was nothing but a lie. I am more real than she will ever be. It’s just that no one wants to admit it yet. Not even the great and powerful hybrid himself.”

 

\--

 

Caroline steals the Salvatores’ stash of vervain.

It’s ridiculously easy to do. She even manages to snag a few blood bags in the process.

It’s not as if she really needed it. She was the Sheriff’s daughter after all, she had her own big stash waiting for her at her home. She’s been drinking tiny bits of it for months now, had only increased the amount since her mother’s death.

But she doesn’t need the Salvatores’ getting ideas.

Doesn’t need them convincing Klaus to turn her humanity back on for them, to fix the problem without the hassle.

And if they can’t protect themselves from the Originals, then maybe they’ll think twice about going to them for help. From considering them allies.

She leaves a little behind, in one of the alcohol bottles.

A surprise for whichever vampire drinks it first.

 

\--

 

_(“Some of the things she’s doing…” Stefan said and the pause was so loud it almost hurt Damon’s ears._

_Maybe it was because he knew where his brother was going._

_“Some of the things she’s doing, it reminds me of Katherine.” Stefan said, finally meeting Damon’s eyes. “Katherine had the whole town under her thrall and that was with her switch on. Caroline…Caroline will rule this town if we don’t stop her. Caroline will have everyone under her spell and worst of all, she won’t give a damn about what happens if we don’t find a way to make it stop.”_

_“Then we find someone who can.” Damon said, tipping his drink towards his brother._

_Stefan and he had both had always known how this was going to go down. It was only a matter of time.)_

 

\--

 

Caroline was beginning to get bored with the Grill.

The alcohol still burned going down and the blood clenched the hunger in her stomach, but that was all it did.

It was all so monotonous.

But then, Caroline supposed she should be getting used to that. Life would continue that way forever now.

(Wake up, feed, go to bed. Go to school, go to one class and then another. Read this and read that. Turn in this paper, turn in that.)

Life really was a monotonous thing. Caroline couldn’t help but think someone should have told her that.

Stefan maybe, when he was teaching her how to be a vampire. Klaus, maybe, when he settle in on her as his next conquest. Maybe even Damon in a fit of anger or when lashing out in pain. He could have told her that she had nothing to look forward. Just a forever that never really ended, even when you did.

She wondered if compelling the whole town, creating a new challenge, would make it better for her. Make it more interesting.

(Probably not, but she still thought it was still worth a shot.)

The doors to the Grill opened, both of them at the same time, revealing someone who liked to make an entrance. Her money was on Damon or Klaus, but sometimes Stefan could be a drama queen too.

“Mr. Mikaelson is coming this way.” The bartender whispered as he laid another drink in front of her.

She smiled falsely at him, patted his hand like he was a good boy, “Thank you, Henry.”

He nodded, his eyes glazed over, but a smile on his face because he had done good, done as he was told, and walked away.

“When you have them do that, I lose all element of surprise.” Klaus said sliding into the seat beside her.

“Kind of the idea.” Caroline said, “I need to be prepared for that day when Stefan and Damon appear and try to drag me off to that dungeon they keep under their house. Unless that’s why you’re here?”

There’s no fear in her voice and she wondered briefly if that annoyed him. This powerful, indestructible being was sitting beside her and she didn’t think him any more of a threat than Henry the bartender.

“We don’t have a dungeon under the manor,” Klaus waved her comment off, “If we’re going to torture someone, we have plenty of rooms for it.”

She turned to look at him, wondered if he had expected her to laugh.

“I didn’t actually come here for you.” Klaus said, “It was just a happy coincidence.”

“Coincidence.” Caroline corrected, “Or at least for me.”

“Oh, yes, you still don’t feel anything. Just an empty abyss full of blood and alcohol.”

“And glitter.” Caroline said and he did a double take that might have been funny if someone else was there to witness it, “It’s harder to wash off than you might think.”

She kept finding it. In her hair, on her hands, on her school books, in her sheets.

Always pink glitter, wherever she went it followed.

“Well, either way, I thought it might have changed after what your friends found out.” Klaus said.

It was casual, too casual, but she took the bait because that was what she was supposed to do. Caroline played by the rules, she always had, even if she didn’t have to anymore. Even if they didn’t matter to her anymore.

“And what exactly did they find out?” She asked.

“You mean they didn’t tell you?” Klaus asked, his voice filled with mocked outrage. “They really aren’t good friends at all.”

“Not like you.” Caroline said, leaning closer, “Not like you, who searched me out, just to tell me what they didn’t want me to know.”

“Your beautiful when you speak so honestly,” He said his hand running down her face.

She pressed into it, played into the act. “Well, I know how much you like.”

(“Thank you for your honesty.” he had signed next to his name. Like it was some new concept to him.)

“So what don’t they want me to know?” She asked, purred just a little.

She was getting better at playing the game. It just took time and practice.

He smirked at her again. “About your friend Alaric, of course, about what he’s been doing. Really, it’s such a shame what magic rings can bring out in people.”

 

\--

 

_(“No, Klaus won’t help.” Elena shook her head, “He’ll like her better like this. A new buddy to kill people with. If anything we have to keep them as far apart as possible, to make sure she doesn’t do something she can’t come back from.”_

_“I think we’re a little late for that.” Damon said, with a pointed look.)_

 

\--

 

Caroline did all the things she was supposed to do.

She applied pressure to the wound.

She bit into her wrist and shoved vampire blood down her throat.

She called 911 and left a sob filled message with the operator.

_(“there’s so much blood—something—someone—send someone please”)_

She prayed to a god she stopped believing in after she met Damon Salvatore.

She screamed and screamed and screamed for help, until her voice the words came out like sandpaper from her throat and no one could make them out but she repeated them anyways. Over and over and over again.

_(“Somebody help me!”)_

None of it mattered.

When she had entered the house, her mother’s heart had already stopped beating. There had been no pulse. No breath left in her lungs.

Her mother was no longer there to hear her pleas to please come back to her, as she held her body close, and begged for something that would never happen.

_(“Mommy, please come back. Please, please, come back.”)_

 

\--

 

The door to the Boarding House creaked as Caroline closed it behind her. She absently thought about how they should fix that, as Alaric’s voice came, asking Damon about where he’s been.

(Caroline may have caused a bit of mass confusion in the middle of town. Lots and lots of brunettes with long hair and bloody necks. Compelled to walk and wander, to repeat that they were Elena Gilbert to anyone who may ask.

Oops.)

“I thought I needed a babysitter.” Alaric said as she appeared in the doorway.

He stumbled on the last word.

“Caroline.” He stuttered, taking her in.

She didn’t think she looked all that intimidating, jeans and boots and a flowing top. Blonde curls flowing down her back.

Caroline looked far more like little red riding hood than she did the wolf.

(Of course, appearances were deceiving, she knew that.)

“You seem scared.” Caroline said, cocking her head, sounding genuinely confused.

She could hear Alaric’s heart racing inside his chest, hear his breathing increase, getting faster. She could see his hands clutching at the couch cushion so hard they turned white.

It was amazing to think that this man could change so easily, could kill so easily, but was so scared of her. Human emotions, she supposed, there was no turning those off. And when he was no longer his alter-ego, Alaric had it in spades, and human emotions involve fear.

“You have every reason to hate me, Caroline—”

“I don’t hate you.” Caroline said stepping further into the room and closer to him. She gave him credit for not stepping back, for not trying to run away. “I can’t hate you. That would be an emotion and I don’t have those anymore. Didn’t someone tell you?”

“I know, you flipped the switch. Damon—”

She laughed, interrupting him. It was loud and it filled the whole room. It wasn’t really amusement through, not really. Just…an echo of what would have been once. Bitter amusement that he would bring up Damon in an attempt to save himself. Foolish really.

“You know, I always wondered about you and Damon,” She said circling around and taking the seat in the chair across from him, “How you could be friends with him; the monster that you once vowed to kill. But—when you have no emotions, it makes you see clearer.”

“And what do you see?” Alaric asked.

“That we’re all monsters; it’s the curse of Mystic Falls. You stay here long enough and the darkness seeps in until all that’s left is monsters.” Caroline smiled. “We all have blood on our hands, some more than others, but we all have blood on our hands that we will never be able to wash clean.”

“I don’t understand.” Alaric said slowly. Like she was the teacher and he was the student and he didn’t understand that day’s lesson.

Caroline smiled, “Sometimes when I close my eyes, I still see my mother’s blood on my hands. I wonder, if when this is all over, I’ll see yours too.”

Alaric didn’t have time to say anything before she was straddling him on the couch. “Tell me when it hurts.” She said before ripping into his neck.

(He would not go gentle into the night. Her mother hadn’t, so why should he?)

Her hands slipped down, caressing his sides, pushing him down into the couch, a cold imitation of an intimate moment, as her hand found his, sliding the ring off his finger. She heard him whimper against her skin.

Caroline thought it would be a nice surprise for Damon when he came home.

His only friend, dead on his couch.

His only friend, dead. Damon unable to save him. Unable to do anything.

She thought it was his turn to feel that way, fair play and all that.

 

\--

 

_(Alaric’s body is buried in the woods behind the Salvatore’s Boarding House. Damon buries him himself, and Elena leaves a marker so they always know where to go to find him._

_“He’s in a better place now.” She had said as she laid it down._

_Nobody had believed her, not even Elena._

_Damon hadn’t stopped drinking since he had found the body._

_Bonnie had dedicated herself to her books, searching for a way to cure Caroline, to prevent something like Alaric’s death from happening again. Elena and Matt had taken to helping her. Burying themselves in things that wouldn’t work.)_

 

\--

 

“I thought it would feel different.” Caroline told her mother’s grave. “I thought killing the monster that had killed you…it would change things somehow.”

She lowered herself to the ground, found herself tracing her mother’s name, the words under it.

_‘Loving mother’_

“It doesn’t feel different.” Caroline said, “It doesn’t feel better. It doesn’t feel like anything at all. And I know that if you were here…you’d hate me for it. He wasn’t a vampire. He was just a man. A victim of magic. He needed help, needed saving, and all I offered him was death. You would hate me.”

She traced Liz’s name again.

“It was supposed to feel different.” She said. “It was…Instead I didn’t feel anything. I don’t know how to anymore.”

 _‘Elizabeth Forbes’_ she traced over and over again.

“You would hate that too.”

 

\--

 

There’s a crackling behind her, feet against dirt and leaves, because no one ever came to grave yard if they didn’t have to and that meant no one cleaned it up.

Caroline twirled around graceful in her arc, her old ballet teacher would be proud, her fangs bared to whoever was waiting there.

They raised an eyebrow in exasperation.

“Rebekah?” There’s a hint of curiosity, something new since…since.

“Nice, to see you too, Caroline.” She smiled smugly, “I didn’t mean to interrupt, please do go back to talking to your dead mother. I’ll wait.”

“What do you want, Rebekah?” Caroline asked, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips without her permission.

(Rebekah had always been able to get a reaction out of her.

Once Stefan had told her it was because they were both too alike. She had poured her drink over his head. A childish thing to do, now that she could see it clearer. A wooden object through his stomach would have made the point better.)

“Stefan came to talk to me, gave me the big puppy dog eyes and tried playing on my emotions.” Rebekah said with a sigh of her own.

“He wants you to compel me to turn my feelings back on?” Caroline asked, wiping the leaves and dirt off her jeans. They were ruined now. Covered in left over glitter and the dirt she had watched them pile over her mother’s coffin.

She had just bought them a few days ago.

“Smarter than I thought, maybe this emotionless thing is good for you.” Rebekah mocked, as Caroline watched her wearily, waiting for the pin to drop.

Caroline was full of vervain, if Rebekah attempted to compel her it wouldn’t work. Caroline would have to be convincing enough to fool her and everyone else that she was feeling things again, that she had her humanity again. Buy herself time to escape.

“Your friends thought I would be more sympathetic to their cause than my brother.” She continued, “Their idiots of course, Klaus wants nothing more than for you to be the girl he first met. The one he can woo and bend you to his will; make Tyler bite you and then come gallivanting in and save you. The one he can win over with the truth of her mother’s murderer and make her turn her emotions back on. And it’s hard to be the hero when the damsel isn’t asking to be saved.”

“One more reason to keep them off then.” Caroline said.

Rebekah murmured in agreement, moving forward until she was almost standing next to Caroline and looked down at the grave. Caroline’s mother’s grave.

“I didn’t know it was possible to turn it off in the beginning, none of us did.” Rebekah said, “When my mother died, I felt every little bit of it, every bit of pain, every memory, every second she wasn’t there. It hurt like it just happened for years. Even now, after I know everything, every horrible thing; sometimes it still hurts.”

She wasn’t looking at Caroline, she was looking at the grave of a woman she didn’t even know.

“It ached in ways I didn’t know it could. I was a vampire, one of the most powerful creatures on earth, and I was broken for it. If I could have turned it off, I would have in a second. I would have buried all that pain the same place we buried her.”

“I’m not going to force you to turn it back on, to feel all that pain,” Rebekah said, finally looking at Caroline. “But your friends are right, as annoyingly self-righteous and hypocritical as they may be; you’re only putting off the inevitable. One day, something will happen, and all that pain will come pouring out and by then it might be far too late for you to really get over it. You’ll have done too many things, you’ll have forgotten the sound of her voice, you’ll have forgotten what it feels like to smile and mean it. But it’s your choice, Caroline. Losing her, losing your father, becoming a vampire; none of that was ever your choice. This is. You’re the only one who gets to make it.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Being nice?” Rebekah mocked.

“Not listening to Stefan.” Caroline said.

“Your mother died, you found a way to make the pain stop. I won’t be the one to bring it all back.”

 

\--

 

“Caroline, I’m going to be working late at the station tonight.”

Her head snapped up from looking through the fridge, picking over blood bags for just the right blood type, to look over at her mother.

“Okay.” She nodded.

“You’ll be okay?” Her mother asked and Caroline rolled her eyes.

“Mom, I can make my own dinner, and oh yeah, _vampire_. I think I’ll be fine.” She sent her mother a pointed look.

“I know, I’m just—”

“Being a mom.” Caroline smiled, “Yeah, I know.”

It was nice. Caroline had missed it. But they were trying again, really trying, and it made all the difference in the world.

“I’ll see you later.” Liz said grabbing her keys off the counter. She offered her daughter a brief smile before turning and leaving.

“Be safe!” Caroline called after her, “And pick up pink glitter if you have time! I need it for the dance.”

(Those were the last words they shared. The last things they had said to one another. And not once had Caroline thought about saying 'I love you'.)

 

\--

 

It’s Stefan who finds her.

The door to the cellar is wide open, no locks, she could walk out at any time she wanted too. She could never had entered at all. She could have turned tail and ran as soon as she saw it, the want for freedom overwhelming her. Caroline could have never have come at all.

Instead Caroline had crawled onto the cot and into herself, waiting, just waiting. For what exactly she wasn’t sure.

“Caroline…” Stefan began but he doesn’t finish.

She thought for once, he didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t know how to turn it back on.” Caroline said quietly, but it seemed loud in her head. Like it echoed around the room and off the walls until it was repeating itself. “I…I don’t know how I even turned it off...I can’t...”

“You want us to help you?” Stefan asked slowly coming into the room.

“I don’t want anything.” Caroline said, finally looking up at him, “Isn’t that the problem?”

 

\--

 

_(The door unlocked._

_Her mother’s missing keys._

_The smell of blood that she gotten so used to she didn't even notice._

_All the clues were there._

_Caroline just hadn’t put them together. Not really. Instead she had looked in the bag, been distracted by silly pink glitter.)_

 

\--

 

“I think I’m broken.” She told Bonnie.

“What?” Bonnie asked, her voice reaching a shrill pitch that was usually reserved for Caroline herself.

“I can’t bring myself to cry.” Caroline said. She thought maybe she should be talking to Elena, that she would understand, even Jeremy maybe. But she didn’t think it was fair to drudge it all up for them again, not when they were still trying to get passed so much loss.

And she remembered Elena at her parents’ funerals, at Jenna’s and John’s. She remembered the tears. She remembered the grief out in the open for everyone to see. Caroline couldn’t go to her.

“Caroline…”

“I stand in front of his grave and I just…Do you think it’s possible to cry yourself out? To run out of tears?” Caroline didn’t think she was possible of that, she had always been a facet of tears, hidden behind make up and closed doors.

“It’s just…It’s just the shock of it all. Sometimes it makes you feel numb.” Bonnie tried to soothe her, her hand coming to Caroline’s back and rubbing gentle circles, “People deal with death in different ways and he—”

Caroline wondered how her friend was going to finish that sentence.

_He was your dad._

_He tortured you._

_He died right in front of you._

_He was a bastard who died still thinking he was right._

_She doesn’t._

“It’s just the shock of it all.” Bonnie repeated.


End file.
